We Call Them Heroes
by NightlockKnights
Summary: We find our four beloved gamers, 'The Crew', and their friends on a journey to become our saviors.
1. Fluke's Beginning

The family looks down on their newest member. A son, no older than a day, sleeps in his mother's arms. "What's his name gonna be, Dad?" The eldest son asks excitedly. "We've decided to call him William. William Fluke." Responds his mother. "Oh boy, I get a brother! I can make him do stuff for me! Isn't that right, Dad? And I'll call him Will and we'll be best friends!" The ecstatic two-year-old shouts as he runs around in circles. "Son, why don't you go to bed? It's past your bedtime." The father says, in a stern but soft voice. The eldest son walks out of the room, following his orders. "But I'm not even tired." He growls as he passes through the doorway.

"You know that we won't be able to have him for long. He'll be taken away and trained and turned into one of them. He'll be a monster." Fluke's mother says angrily whilst gently petting her son's head. Born with a thin layer of light blond hair upon his head, everyone knew he would be different. Just no one knew how. "He'll be a hero. Remembered in history books for the next thousand years. This is all we could ask for and more. You know it."

"But... I don't want to let him go. What if I want him to be a normal kid, living a normal life. I want him to be great... Just not in that way." Fluke's father takes the child from his mother's arms into his own. "No one wants it in that way." 

* * *

"Mr. and Mrs. Donaldson, we have taken your claim into consideration. We understand your situation and we will grant a deal. Your son will still become one of us, eventually. But you shall maintain custody of him for a while, for twenty-one years. On his 22nd birthday, however, he shall be taken, and his training will begin."

A man in a business suit and slicked back grey hair stood in front of Fluke's parents, presenting them with the resolution. Tears of joy streamed down Fluke's mother's face as the deal evolved. "Yes, yes, thank you. Thank you so much." 

* * *

It was an average morning for Fluke. Wake up, shower, twitter, stream, twitter, twitter, video games, twitter, and breakfast. The fans had been especially horrifying today, photoshopping make up and other unspeakable things onto his face. "WTF Heman, why, why, WHY?" Had been his last tweet before he gave up and decided to play some video games. GTA V had been calling his name all morning, screaming for him to finish the game.

Fluke pressed the 'W' key into the keyboard as hard as he could, urging the helicopter into the terrorist's headquarters. The game ended in a fiery explosion, with a newspaper headline saying "Unknown hero saves the day, terrorists in captivity" and an epilogue saying how the characters got their happy endings. Fluke, unsatisfied, stormed out of his room in an attempt at moodiness. Of course, with his happy-go-lucky nature he couldn't keep the act up for more than a few minutes.

Suddenly, his mother burst out from nowhere. "Follow me too the kitchen, honey." She says as she grabs his hand. Fluke follows his mother to the kitchen to find the other three members of the family waiting for him. His father, older brother and younger sister, all waiting for him. "Happy birthday, Will!" they all exclaimed when he and his mother walked in.

"Thanks guys!" Fluke smiled. He has actually forgotten his own birthday! The celebrations continued for a few more hours before his mother and younger sister started to clean up. It had been a long day, so Fluke decided to go outside and get a breath of fresh air. 

* * *

It was well passed 10 on a starry, December night. Fluke had a light jacket thrown over his shoulders to protect him from the harsh, unforgiving snow that always seems to settle in England this time of year. He was looking up at a particularly bright star when a strange man in black clothes sat down next to him.

"Beautiful night for a daydream, huh?" The man had the most beautiful voice Fluke had ever heard, soft and silky yet still a bit rough. The man's persona and black clothing reminded Fluke of a rapist, but this was London, after all. You either talk to strangers or you don't live in London. "Yeah, I guess." Fluke responded, using the nonchalant tones and expressions he learned in acting school. "You guess?" The man persisted.

The guy must have been in his mid forties. Fluke stole glances at him when he was sure he wasn't looking. "I should probably go. My family must be wondering where I am." Fluke persuades, trying to get out of situation. As he goes to stand up, the man grabs his wrist before he can get inside. "What's your problem man, I've got to-" The man tightens his grip so that no matter how hard Fluke pulls, he can't get away. "Listen to me, kid, you've got to come with me. There was a deal made years back that has to be kept, for the greater good."

"I don't care about your deal. Now let me go!" The blond yelled. "Your full name is William Fluke Donaldson. Your birthday is today, December 22. Your favorite color is purple and you like to wear dresses in public." The old guy argues, grabbing Fluke's other wrist. Fluke fights, but as he hears the things the old man says he can't help but listen. "How do you know so much about me?" Fluke was amazed. "And no, I don't like wearing dresses in public! It was a one time thing!"

"Oh, so your parents haven't told you?"

"Haven't told me what?"

"Your role in life."

"My role in life is to be an actor, thank you very much." Fluke struggles, freeing his arms from the man's grip.

"You're supposed to be a hero!" The man yells as Fluke frantically tries to open the door.

"You're just some crazy old man who wants to dress me up as a woman again!"

The door wouldn't open, and Fluke desperately jiggles the doorknob.

"I didn't want to do this, Will..."

The door opens at the last second, but the old man is too quick. He loads a dart into a dart gun and shoots it into Fluke's neck.

Then everything was dark.


	2. Pocket Makes An Appearance

All Fluke saw was blinding white light. _Where_ _am I? _He thought. How did he end up in this barren room with nothing but his thoughts? The only thing filling his line of sight now was a mess of blond hair that matched his. "He's awake. Thank god." He heard the blond thing say.

The voice was definitely feminine, high pitched. It had a sort of confidence that everyone loved. But it also sounded like a bird flying through the air, the snow melting in the spring time. "Well, Jukettaja sure did pour a lot of tranquilizer into that dart."

"Wait, there was... What?" Fluke asked, still dazed as to what had happened. He knew there was a strange man on his birthday, and that was all. "Poor thing. Would you like me to explain?" The girl asked. "That would be extremely appreciated."

"Here, how about you sit up?" Said the girl. She grabbed Fluke by the shoulders and devoted all of her strength into pulling him forward. In doing so, Fluke let out a painful sounding whimper through gritted teeth. Fluke hadn't felt anything this painful since... Ever, really. He must have taken quite a fall when 'Jukettaja' shot him.

Now that he was sitting up, Fluke could see the girl perfectly now. Right about his age with a mop a yellow hair framing her face. But her eyes, her eyes were beautiful. Shining like the stars in the sky, her emerald green irises reflected all the light in the room. "Hi. My name's Pocket." She smiles.

"So, I believe some pretext would be in order." Says Pocket. "When you were first born you were supposed to be taken immediately from your family to train. But they put up a good fight, and they wouldn't let you go. But you still had to train with us. Become one of us. It's your destiny. So a deal was made, on your twenty-second birthday, you would be taken. That was three days ago. You're a fighter, though, so you had to be forcibly taken. I honestly can't blame you."

"So now, once you've made a full recovery, you'll start your training. Once it starts, I suggest that you value every moment of it, because you never know when you'll have to use it. It's horrible, the things they do to you, but you have to learn to appreciate them. Training is the only thing that keeps you alive, aside from me."

Fluke took in every word the gorgeous woman said. If all this is true then he'll need all the help he can get. "I've got a question." responded Fluke. Pocket nodded, prompting him on. "What exactly am I training for?" Pocket closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. "No one knows." She said wearily.

"No one knows? No one knows?! If no one knows then why am I here? Why have I spent the last three days in this 'compound'?" Fluke starts to get up, but the searing pain in his neck prevents him. He grits his teeth and swings his legs over the side of the hospital bed. Pocket's hands fly towards his wrists, holding them down. "Okay. You've got to listen to me. None of us want to be here. Not a single one. But we're all _supposed_ to be here. We've all been destined to spend our lives here, always protecting others. Always hiding from the world. But we have to learn to love it. These people are the only family we've got now, so we have to make the most of it."

Her words resonated with Fluke. _'We have to make the most of it.' _The girl had said. Pocket was gentle about her words, but she meant them. Now it was Fluke's turn to take an unsteady breath. "Alright. I'll give it a chance, but..." He sighed. "I don't want to be alone on this. You'll be right there with me?"

Pocket smiled. "Of course." 

* * *

"How are those meds working? You're sure you can't feel anything?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Even if they do wear off, it'll help with that 'training' thing."

"Alright, but if you start crying in the middle of the tour don't blame me."

Fluke laughed. This Pocket chick was nice. If he had to spend the rest of his life here, at least he'd be in good company. Pocket promised to give him a basic tour around the compound to let him stretch out a bit. She also gave him some meds so he wouldn't be in agony the whole time.

While she was dosing him up, she gave him a bit more information on this whole thing. It turns out he's one of many in an elite group of heroes, who don't really know they're heroes. Pocket is his assigned healer. Each major hero has one. The 'training' is so intense that that's necessary. The thought of that alone was enough to send shivers down Fluke's spine.

Pocket was once supposed to be a hero like Fluke when she was young, so that's how she knows about the training. When it turned out that she wasn't doomed to be one of them, she had so much sympathy for the ones that were. She decided to become a healer. She spent the last nine years working with a mentor, who had passed away just three weeks before Fluke came along. Fluke could tell that when she told him that last bit she was on cloud nine to have a friend again, even though she would never admit it. 

* * *

"So over here are the some of the bathrooms, and the janitor's closet. It sounds small, but it's actually huge in there. And you see that red door, right down the hall? That's where all the healing stuff is. By stuff I mean the supplies _and _the barracks for the extra medics." Pocket spouted on, more to herself than Fluke. In fact, she was walking so fast that it took Fluke two strides to match one of hers. Despite all that, Fluke thought it was quite comical. Nothing like odd little laughs to brighten up possibly the strangest day ever.

"And last, but hella not least, the training hall." She finished. She stopped and let Fluke catch up. She watched as he walked through the grand doorway and into the hall itself. "Woah," Fluke smiled. "This is amazing!" _This never gets old. _Thought Pocket.

The training hall was amazing, even with all the horrible things Pocket had said about it. It stretched as far as the eye can see, with an elegant glass ceiling towering dozens of feet above. Guns and knives were scattered around randomly. Fluke had never seen anything this impressive!

But even with all this equipment, something about the place seemed wrong. Empty. Deserted. Like the place hadn't seen human life in the last fifty years. Maybe it was just what Pocket had said that was getting to him, or maybe it was his "Hero Senses" kicking in. Either way, something was wrong, and when he looked at Pocket, she knew it too. "Fluke, maybe we should get out of here. Something feels off-"

That's when the ceiling shattered.


	3. Kids These Days

_ Author's note: I AM SO, SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING MORE OFTEN. All I'm gonna say is: Algebra + Substitute English Teacher (Keyword: English) = Nightmares beyond imagination. SEE MS. PEREZ?! I CAN DO EQUATIONS WITH LETTERS. And also; Evanz, if you're reading this, I am so sorry. I just needed a douche bag/troubled yute in this story and you got the short end of the stick, my friend. LUV U BBY GURL xoxoxox_

* * *

__

Evanz walked down the brightly lit medic hallway. Today was a check up day, which took place once every two weeks. It was really the only day any more that actually required medic-y stuff anymore. After eighteen years, his training had been both completed and to the point where he injured the trainers more than visa versa.

The brunette arrived at the tall white door that he had known for years. **MEDIC ROOM 13 **was spray painted on the door in official black letters. He knocked on the door. "Gubiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, I'm here!"

The door almost instantly opened. "Evanz!" The ginger exclaimed. Evanz had shown up everyday for the past nine years, but Gubiak was still excited to see him.

Evanz walked in, sitting down on the metallic hospital bed just like he had done for as long as he could remember. When he was younger, his healer was a woman. She was middle aged, had a kind nature, and was sort of his mother figure. That was all he could remember of her. One day, she stopped being there and the funky red head know as Gubi replaced her. Whenever Evanz brought up the subject, Gubi refused to talk about it.

"So, I heard you had a meeting with Jukettaja this morning." Gubiak said in a thick Polish accent. Evanz was always confused about how Gubi knew most things that went on in his life without him telling him. "Yeah. Basically called me in to tell me that he thinks the war is coming soon. But then again, he's been saying that for the past three years. And I still don't know why he chooses to bestow this knowledge on me. I mean, he has Juke, and the council members."

Juke was Jukettaja's son. Jukettaja was like Evanz's father before Juke came along. Ever since then, Juke was the only thing his father paid attention to. Well, that and this 'war' he was preparing for. He was convinced that there was going to be some huge catastrophe that the 'heroes' had to fix. Jukettaja put so much on Evanz, thinking that being a hero meant that you knew what you were doing.

"It's because you're the most experienced hero here." Gubi said. "Most experienced? Try only." Evanz sassily replied. Gubiak looked at him, shocked. "You mean to say Jukettaja didn't tell you?"

Evanz was taken back. "Wait, tell me what? What's going on?"

Gubi shook his head, "I can't believe he didn't tell you, of all people."

"Tell me what, Gubiak?" Evanz was growing impatient. "You didn't answer my question."

Gubi sighed. "A few days ago Jukettaja found the second hero. He drugged him and I'm not sure if he's awake yet."

So good old Jukettaja kept blabbering in his ear all morning about some imaginary war, but didn't bother to tell him about one of his supposed allies? Evanz sighed rebelliously. He was getting sicker and sicker of this place everyday. He was sort of hoping that this war would be real, just so he could get away from here.

Gubi didn't dare say anything. He had thrown himself in Evanz's warpath before, and it wasn't fun. It would be better to just let him cool off. He watched as Evanz stormed out of the room.

* * *

Evanz was angry. And when he was angry, no one dared to get in his way. They knew better than that.

The walk down the long medic hallway would normally be enough time for him to cool down, but this was the last straw. For eighteen years he had been lied too, and he was tired of it. He had never met his real parents, never had any friends except for Gubiak, and hell, he had only been outside twice in his life! Evanz would find a way to get out of this place, one way or another.

He passed through the barely bustling center of the compound, and when he did, you could almost feel the silence pass through the crowd. People stopped doing what ever they were doing, children stopped playing, even the fountain in the middle seemed to silence for those few painful seconds Evanz went by. It wasn't uncommon for Evanz to be acting up, but they stayed out of his way all the same.

* * *

Evanz arrived at the council's corridor. It was a dark, grey, metallic place where you could smell cleaner in the air at all times. Jukettaja's office was the most magnificent one at the end of the hallway. Evanz's gate didn't slow down as his feet felt the change between concrete and carpet. Just then, a guard put his hand on Evanz's shoulder. "Mr. Evans, you do not have clearance to be he-" Evanz punched the guard in the face.

He passed by many doors, many of which he'd gone through at least once in his life. Each door had a silver plaque, stating the office's resident. One had _Skylociraptor _engraved into the door. Another had _Wittle Midget_. _Mezola, Heman, Cabin16- Nemesis,_ _Lisa Otaku _and _Winnebagels_ were only a few of the names that Evanz recognized in his fury.

Next thing he knew, he was ramming his shoulder into Jukettaja's office door, opening it easily. "So, you didn't bother to tell me about this 'New Hero'?" He shouted. Jukettaja was sitting behind his desk with wide eyes. "Wait, wha-" He looked confused. "Ohhhhh, you mean Fluke? Yes. He's 22, from London. I just received word from his healer that he's awake."

"I don't care about his name, or his age, or where he's from! What I care about is that you had me here for hours this morning, spouting off about some war, but you didn't bother to mention that you kidnapped one of my 'allies' and brought him here and you didn't tell me!" Evanz was breathing heavily, steaming.

"Oh, Evanz, you're like a son to me. But sometimes I do regret treating you like one. You see, over the years I've noticed that you don't quite respond very well when there's someone threatening to take your position. Like my dear son Juke. Or that poor girl Pocket in training. And you really don't like it when I tell you these things. That's why I thought it would be best if I held back and let Gubiak tell you. Man, is that kid a gossiper."

"So you mean to tell me that you made my friend do something because you didn't want to?" Evanz snarled.

"My dear, it was best that way."

* * *

Evanz found himself in the training hall. He always ended up there when he was upset. He was standing at a table, polishing a set of throwing knives when he heard someone entering.

"And last, but hella not least, the training hall." He recognized the voice. It was distinctly high-pitched and female. "Woah," a deeper voice said. "This is amazing!" Judging by the fact he was impressed by this he was probably the new hero.

Evanz heard something else, too. The girl said; "Fluke, maybe we should get out of here." Yes, it was definitely the newcomer. But why would the girl want to leave so suddenly? Whatever it was, Evanz felt it too. "Something feels off-"

Evanz knew what was happening. His senses were running at full speed when he heard the ceiling shatter.


End file.
